


let me breathe. let me free, because my heart still remembers you.

by wispy (supertonic)



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Reader is kind of a dick, Reader-Insert, Rivalry, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Work In Progress, and reader dgaf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supertonic/pseuds/wispy
Summary: But the thing you hate the most about Jung Taekwoon is that Hakyeon is close to him too.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ㄴㅌㅇ (ㅈㅌㅇ) • ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴀᴜ





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the mengo yokoyari's wonderful manga "kuzu no honkai/scum's wish." this fic's probably not going to be as dark as the manga though.

The first thing you do in the morning is to turn on your phone — check for messages and other notifications (which you usually don’t have. But you make it a habit of doing it anyway). Next, you charge your phone. After that, you go to the bathroom. You try to avoid the mirror there — there’s nothing that frightens you more than your swollen eyes and puffy cheeks face in the morning. (Okay well, maybe your angry mother scares you more.) Your face becomes bearable after you wash your face — rinse off the crud stuck in your eyes; wash off the oil built up from your wonderfully peaceful, three hours of sleep.

You follow your skincare routine like a religion: toner, essence, moisturizer, serum, spot treatment, aloe (if your face is extra swollen or overheated), and face cream. And if you can’t follow through with it…well, your face feels like you rubbed dry plaster all over it. Your outfits are more or less the same: a simple t-shirt, jeans, a pair of heels (this is interchangeable, depending on what class you have on that particular day). On your lazy days, you just wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. On days when you have a full schedule, you put on something more eye-catching — a dress, a skirt, or a low-cut shirt. Today, you decide to wear a shirt and jeans.

Breakfast is something you usually skip because you’d rather sleep in than waste time cooking food. However, today is different. Your first class today starts at noon, so you decide to make something incredibly fancy — ramen. You look in the refrigerator, hoping to find some vegetables or side dishes to eat it with. You do, but you throw it away when you see blue and white fuzz coming out of them. You clap your hands together and silently apologize to your mother back home.

Your commute to school isn’t too stressful — you don’t have to endure the deathly morning rush because you live close to campus. The only stressful part about your commute to school is waiting for the bus and walking to your class. While the bus stops are located where the majority of the students are, the majority of your classes are an uphill battle away from them. Damn city planners. You have a car and you’re a fairly good driver, but you don’t use it, afraid that some idiot will snatch your parking spot.

As always, you arrive in class earlier than the professor (but everyone does) and the rest of the class. You don’t mind that. You like being early and picking a seat with the best wifi. What you don’t like is how you stupidly signed up for a first-year class when you’re in your fourth year. Were you drunk when you signed up for this class? Were you high when you thought this would be an easy A? Were you having an episode of disassociation when you forgot the human cardboard, Professor Hwang, teaches this class? You slam your head on your desk. And you thought you were over this a week ago.

“Whoa Nuna, you hungover?”

You don’t need to look up to see who that is. You recognize him with the ever-present grin in his voice (and his colorful socks that peeks out of his adidas slippers). You don’t answer him, only raising your head when you hear the nasal voice of the professor.

“Nuna, your face is swollen,” Sanghyuk says in between roll call, “did you eat ramen last night?”

You don’t look at him, only focusing on the professor and waiting on him to call your name. You raise your hand when he does and you wait a bit before answering the kid. “No, breakfast,” you look at him from the side, “what’s it to you?”

He snickers into his sleeve before shaking his head.

“Is student Han Sanghyuk not here?” the professor calls, and it’s your turn to laugh as Sanghyuk scrambles to raise his hand.

The professor begins to lecture him about the importance of paying attention for twenty minutes, thus throwing away an incredibly interesting powerpoint about lighting and composition.

“Not cool,” Sanghyuk whispers, stuffing himself deeper in his hoodie. You only smirk.

Sanghyuk is an easygoing kid to get along with, you realize after your first meeting. His friendly demeanor’s…endearing, in a way. But it’s mostly bothersome.

He calls out to you after class, and as usual, he surrounds himself with a bunch of people and he’s not even in this department. “Wanna grab some lunch?”

The rest of the first years are in a state of shock, and you can tell by their faces that they don’t want you to go with them. “No.” And it becomes even more obvious after that.

“Why not?”

“I have plans.”

As soon as you walk out of the room, a swarm of relieved sighs crashes into your ear.

“Hyuk, are you an idiot? Why would you invite a senior to eat with a bunch of freshies?”

“What are you talking about? She’s the hero who cut that boring lecture in half!”

 

* * *

 

You run out of the building quickly with an eager smile on your face. You’re not too keen on sweating, but you run to the campus library (it conveniently happens to be halfway across your department building), but if it’s a meeting with him, you’ll do anything.

Your speed significantly decreases as you get closer to the building, and you quickly slip into the bathroom to check your hair, your eyeliner, your lipstick — anything that looks out of place. You step out of the bathroom five minutes later. You feel guilty, having him wait for you, but have to look your best for the person that fills your head day and night. You know exactly where he’s sitting, always picking the same spot where the courtyard’s bright foliage is right there when you look from your book — or that’s what he says. (You can’t really pay attention too much when he sits right in front of you. He also mentioned that you can see the sun peeking through the wisteria tree at a certain time, but the only sun you saw was right in front of you all along.) But you make a show of searching for him anyway; just because you love the way he calls your name.

“Over here! Over here,” he says. As usual, his voice drips with honey and warm milk. And you look at him, his smile more precious than any stone you’ve seen on display at the mall. When you meet his gaze, your throat closes and your heartbeat increases rapidly.

You wave at him.

“There you are, Hakyeon!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You sneer at the man behind him. God. You hate him. You hate his arrogance. You hate how he looks at you and just bows. You hate the way he’s hiding his hands in his pockets. (But you appreciate how that takes his grubby hand off of Hakyeon.)

“Did you eat ramen today?” Hakyeon asks you with wide eyes. A red hue fills the apples of your cheeks, ripening them to perfection. You give him a nervous giggle as you shake your head no. “You know I don’t eat instant food! Why? Do I look swollen?”

He hums a bit, a smile appearing on his face. “You must be tired then. Is Professor Hwang’s class giving you a hard time again?”

Oh! He remembered you complaining about his classes. You’re sure you look like an actual apple right now, but the color drains from your face when you see an annoying little creeping sneaking towards Hakyeon. The creep comes closer and snakes its scraggly hands around his shoulders. 

_ Don’t touch him.  _

Hakyeon turns and he smiles. It’s brilliant, and while you’ll usually say you love it, you hate the fact that it’s not towards you. “Taekwoon! Your class ended early today!”

You sneer at the man behind him. God. You hate him. You hate his arrogance. You hate how he looks at you and just bows. You hate the way he’s hiding his hands in his pockets. (But you appreciate how that takes his grubby hand off of Hakyeon.)

He narrows his eyes at you and raises his eyebrows. You scoff. 

“Sorry about that,” Hakyeon says with a small laugh. Your scowl instantly fades into a sweet smile, and you notice Jung Taekwoon’s shock flash in your peripheral vision. “We have an elective together this semester, and Taekwoon promised to show me a shortcut.”

Jung Taekwoon turns away; tucks his head in his neck to hide (like he should). “I didn’t promise anything…”

Hakyeon laughs again, and the grip on your pencil tightens considerably. You almost snap it. “Okay, okay! Come on, Taekwoon, it’s time for us to go.” Hakyeon puts a hand on Jung Taekwoon’s shoulder as he says this. It makes your eyes twitch. 

**_DON’T TOUCH HIM._ **

Jung Taekwoon nods after a long pause and turns, but he looks at you before he starts to walk off. 

Hakyeon looks back at Jung Taekwoon with a weary smile and he calls him; tells him to slow down. He looks back at you and pats your head. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You feel yourself unwind when his hand finds its way to your head. “Okay,” you dreamily sigh out. Then he walks off. You stare at him going off to class with a smile until you see his arm around Jung Taekwoon’s shoulder. 

But the thing you hate the most about Jung Taekwoon is that Hakyeon is close to him too. 

There’s no reason to look away from them, because every time you tear your eyes away from that unpleasant (“unpleasant” because Jung Taekwoon’s there) display, your head snaps back just like the pen that snaps in half because of your grip. You swear through your teeth and pack your stuff.

 

* * *

 

Waiting for “later” is torturous. You attend your classes for the day, unfocused on lectures because you’re too busy staring at the clock. You look outside and gape at the students smoking out there. You’re so jealous. You want to be there too — at least inhaling the smoke that blankets them — but you can’t. You’ve been nicotine-free for three years and Hakyeon hates the smell of cigarettes. (Which basically explains why you’ve stopped smoking for three years, but a reason is a reason.) 

You wonder if you ran out of the lecture hall too quickly, but you’re desperate to have a seat next to Hakyeon during the meeting. You laugh at yourself. You still can’t believe you signed up to be a part of the planning committee this semester, but you would do anything to spend more time with Hakyeon. Which is why you’re thoroughly disappointed when you and Hakyeon are not the first ones in the meeting room. 

It’s him and Wonshik, having a deeply concentrated conversation with a hand-bound book sprawled in front of them. Hakyeon greets you with a warm smile that takes the fatigue right out of you, and you don’t care whether Wonshik said hi to you or not. 

You would force Wonshik to exchange seats, but the left side of your face happens to be your good side, so you decide to let it go. 

“Nuna, what’s that stain on your shirt?”

You don’t need to look down to see what he’s talking about. There’s a blotch of black ink on your shirt from your pen that exploded because you were getting angry at Jung Taekwoon. (He just ruins everything, doesn’t he?) You brush him off with a small wave of your hand. Your focus is more on the thick, homemade book with tattered pages. “What were you two talking about?”

“Collab,” Wonshik says, even though you asked the question more to Hakyeon. But he looks like he’s deep in thought. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are tight. (It’s really hot.)

“I don’t think this design will go well with this piece,” Hakyeon says after a long pause. 

You take a look at the book in front of them. On the corner of each page, you see a signature and you assume it’s Wonshik’s because Hakyeon’s is much more elegant. Flowers decorate one page, while deer and peacocks take up the next. You wonder what kind of vibe he’s going for, but the rich reds, deep purples and extravagant golds make you think he’s going for an oriental aesthetic. It’s not bad. 

Hakyeon stays silent for a bit more. You stare at him intently, trying to figure out what he’ll say next (and to catch his eyes). You notice that Wonshik’s doing the same. Then, Hakyeon flips to another page. You both lean in closer when he parts his lips to speak. 

“Do you still talk to your computer science friend?” 

Wonshik blinking goes rapid. He really didn’t expect him to ask that and, frankly, neither did you — and you know Hakyeon like the back of your hand. “You mean Hongbin? I do. Do you need something from—“

Hakyeon cuts him off halfway. “I need his number. He’ll make a good model,” he says quickly without looking up from Wonshik’s book. 

“I don’t know, Hyung…I don’t think he’ll like that very much…”

A heavy silence shrouds you three. You can see Wonshik’s eyes darting around Hakyeon and back to his sketchbook. Hakyeon, on the other hand, looks troubled and unamused, so you raise your hand as quickly as you can.

“I know someone who’s willing to model,” you say abruptly.

**Author's Note:**

> a little note:
> 
>   * reader is a rich, privileged princess majoring in photography and minoring in visual design.
>   * taekwoon's majoring in developmental psychology.
>   * hakyeon is the student rep of the design department, and he's majoring in fashion design and minoring in photography.
>   * hyuk is a freshman who has an interest in the arts. he's majoring in sports studies.
>   * hongbin may come in later and he's majoring in software engineering in the computer science department.
>   * ravi will also come later. he's majoring in visual design and minoring in music composition.
>   * i'm not sure if ken would appear in this fic (lmao i'm horrible), but he's majoring in opera. he also takes a lot of art and sport-related electives.
> 



End file.
